Forgotten
by toxic-dreamer-2
Summary: He feels like he doesn't belong here, that he should be somewhere else, but he doesn't know where that is.
1. Chapter 1

He sits propped up against the wall in his cell, heavy shackles on his wrists and feet, a muzzle fastened around his face. His muscles are stiff, every part of him seems to ache from his lack of movement and the various bruises that covered his body. He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the hunger pains in his gut. He sits there, waiting; half in anticipation, and half in dread for what was to come.

He knows that he will be taken to another room shortly, where he'll be fastened to a chair and examined. He will be poked and prodded, scanned, and then injected with something that makes his skin crawl. Afterward they will remove the muzzle from his face, they'll give him water, and he'll be subjected to questions. When the muzzle is back in place he'll be taken roughly back to his cell, with brand new bruises, and a splitting headache.

He goes over the routine in his head, strangely comforted by the fact that he could remember it; that he could at least remember _something_. He thinks about their questions and wishes he had the answers for them, for himself, but he doesn't. He doesn't know where he is, or why, or even how he received most of his injuries. He feels like he doesn't belong here, that he should be somewhere else, but can't remember where that is. He's sees his three finger hand and green skin and knows he's different, but he can't remember if he's always been that way, or how, or why.

He feels tears sting his eyes and doesn't try to stop them from coming. All this not knowing…its more torture than anything else he'd been subjected to. He can't answer their questions, and they won't answer any of his, and so he has nothing. He wants to give up, but something inside him still hopes; some part of him that feels like he's waiting for…for something or..or Someone?

Yes, someone.

He physically jolts at his sudden certainty, grasping the thought and holding onto it with all his might.

He _is _waiting for someone to come.

At this small but amazing revelation, he turns his weary eyes towards the door, as if him acknowledging that someone was coming for him would suddenly bring them forth. After a moment he realizes his own foolishness and adverts his eyes to the floor, his mind thinking rationally again.

If someone was coming for him…if they cared for him..then why hadn't they gotten him out by now? He was sure that he'd been in this horrible place for far longer than he even remembers.

Where were they?

His heart aches with a sudden pain that's hard for him to identify. He feels as though he's been abandoned. His head hurts, and he realizes that he's crying again; he doesn't think it's something he does very often, but he's not sure.

He doesn't remember.

With a deep sigh he closes his eyes, wishing he could recall who it was that he's waiting for, who it was that he suddenly and fiercely believed would rescue him. As he surrenders himself to sleep, he can't help but wonder sadly...if they've forgotten about him too.

* * *

**Anyone know who this turtle is?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well...I hadn't intended to continue this but after reading everyone reviews , as well as their guesses, I felt that I should. I realized that I was a bit cryptic in my first chapter, intentionally so, but still.**

**I dropped more hints in this...although I still don't come right out and say it. Its kind of a challenge to write from one of the turtles perspectives when that turtle doesn't even know who he is. **

* * *

When he wakes up his head is pounding and his vision is blurry; two things that usually acompany his trip to the other room. Had they taken him while he was sleeping? No...they would have woken him up, they always did for questioning, and even so he doubted he could sleep through thier rough treatment. A scary thought entered his mind as he wondered if he'd simply forgotten the trip, just as he had forgotten so many other things. He couldn't be sure...and it scared him.

He thinks back to when he woke up in this room, not knowing where he was, why he was hurt or chained, but still knowing his name. He'd _remembered _his name. He was sure he'd found comfort in that, repeated the name to himself before he went to sleep, through the long lonely hours of isolation, and physical torture. 'What is your name?' they would ask him, and he'd have an answer; his only answer. He'd still been someone back then, he'd still had something to hold on to... but then suddenly... it was gone. His name was gone. He tried so hard to think of it, but it never came back to him. He felt empty and frightened with having lost the only part of himself he'd had left. When they asked him during the next session, he hesitated, trying...trying so hard to find the answer.

_'What is your name?'_

He'd been frantic, eyes darting every which way as if the answers would be written on the walls, or on the faces of the nameless humans watching his interrogation.

_'M-my name...I..it's...I'm..'_

Where had it gone? Where had all of it gone?

_'What. Is. Your. Name?'_

_'I... I don't know.'_

God, how it tore at his heart to admit such a thing, the words themselves had been pained. The people around whispered amongst themselves as if it were a revelation, scribbling notes excitedly; they took pleasure from his pain and loss.

The man that had been questioning him stepped forward.

'_You don't remember?' The man asked, as if clarifying, eyes hidden behind glasses._

_'I forgot.' he admitted, feeling ashamed and foolish._

_The man smiled; a cold, calculated smile, that seemed almost familiar to the turtle -although he was sure he'd never seen him smile before. The man looked pleased, as if he'd matched wits with the best of them and came out the victor. _

The pulsing in his head brought him back to the present...it was so easy to get lost within the only memories he did have, no matter how unpleasant they were. His vision was still unfocused, and he kept his eyes closed for a moment to try and ward of the bout of nausea that was starting to overcome him. Had they really taken him back to the room? He didn't want to believe that he could have forgotten something that may have just taken place but...but he'd forgotten everything else, hadn't he? He'd forgotten his own name.

_the man smiled down at him knowingly._

_ 'Not so smart after all, are you?' _

He felt sick.

He tried to take deep breathes, but the aching in his ribs and the muzzle around his face were hindering his efforts. Were his ribs broken? No...it wasn't that bad. Cracked, maybe...definitely bruised. He was pretty sure of his assessment, but wondered almost immediately how he would know such a thing.

He wished they would just leave the muzzle off, it served no real purpose other than to cause him discomfort. They didn't want to hear his voice unless he was answering their questions...questions that he was sure were nearly the same everyday...and ones he rarely had answers for. Whenever he had tried asking his own questions he was either ignored or punished.

If only he could remember his name. Somehow he felt that if he could...if he could just remember that _one_ thing...than everything else would fall into place. Why couldn't he remember!

__

_'You didn't forget, you know.' the man stated, his tone superior. 'You never had a name at all.'_

He shook the memory of the mans words from his mind, knowing it had been a lie. He forced open his eyes, taking in the room around him before settling on the door expectantly. He wasn't sure why he was staring at it...but something in him stirred hopefully even as his head continued to throb.

Was he...waiting for someone?

* * *

**OKay...now how was that? sad that he's already forgotten that someone was coming for him? I think so.**

** So..whats the verdict? Anyone gonna change their guess?**


End file.
